Sonic the Hedgehog: Across the Desert Sands
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: It sucked when Sonic wasn't allowed to run. When he was forced to trudge a whole 25 metres to his house in the scorching heat of Bygone Island, across the sand of the beach. It wasn't made any better when he found himself hallucinating.


**Across the Desert Sands**

"Ugh. Is this what average people do? This is nuts."

Some morbid part of Sonic's mind was kicking the rest of his brain for not timing how long it would take to walk to his house and back. The morbid part that said "this is sad, and pathetic, and you actually want to time it to remind yourself of how sad and pathetic you are." The rest of his mind, the part that had some self-respect, ignored it. That, and it was boiling.

_Come on, _he thought. _It can't be much further._

But it was. The shack was a whole twenty-five metres away.

_Can't do this, _the hedgehog thought to himself as he trudged across the desert sands of Bygone Island (or beach sand, he couldn't be sure at this point). _I'm gonna die._

Not being able to run. That was a death sentence in itself.

_I slowed down, _he reflected. _The spark's gone. I-_

"Are you dreaming?"

And he stopped walking.

_Huh. Easiest slowdown ever._

"All men dream, but not equally my friend."

And he blinked. Repeatedly.

He really _was _in a desert now. A desert as far as his eyes could see.

"Those who dream at night, in the dusty recesses of their minds, awake in the day to find that it was vanity."

"Um…okay.." said Sonic slowly, gazing around the desert. "Is this a shrink thing? Because I'm working on my ego y'know."

"But the dreamers of the day are dangerous men."

"Yeah, groovy due," said Sonic to the disembodied voice of…something. "Hug a rainbow."

He kept trudging along. So he was in a desert, which meant either one of two things. One, he'd been transported there by some kind of device, or magic. Two, he was hallucinating. Three, Sticks was right, and they were all living in some kind of virtual reality construct as their organic bodies powered badniks. A theory that had sprung up after she'd overdosed on some red-coloured pills of some kind, but one that had stuck in his mind. Mainly because she developed the uncanny ability to dodge bullets for awhile afterwards.

_I'm going with option two._

He kept walking. Hallucination wasn't so bad, he supposed. Besides, reality sucked now, what with the whole "don't run" thing going on, so what harm would a little bit of sun-induced insanity bring?

"But they may enact their dream with open eyes to make it possible."

Sonic shook his head, trying to ignore the voice – insanity would bring all kinds of danger. He'd become like Sticks. Or worse, Eggman. He didn't wear the "Mad Scientist" label for nothing.

_Man this blows._

He kept walking across the sand. Struggling up a sand dune. Coming to a stop and looking at the sight below. A large plane, smashed apart in the sand, its cargo thrown everywhere.

_Huh._

That was all he could say in his mind – "huh." A crashed plane. He wasn't too worried – the Tornado seemed to almost crash every Saturday morning, and Tails was always able to fix it.

"Nice sight huh?"

He spun around. He squinted in the sun's glare, raising a hand to shield his eyes.

"Thirsty?"

The figure held out a water bottle. But he didn't take it. Instead, he kept squinting.

The figure was tall. Even taller than Eggman. And what was strangest of all, he kind of _looked _like Eggman as well. Far thinner of course, and with a kind of gravelly voice, and the conspicuous lack of a moustache, but still, the similarities were there. Pinkish skin. A lack of fur bar the black tuff that covered his head, and little bits of hair around the chin and cheeks. The small eyes. The un-gloved hands.

"Alright, if you're not thirsty, I'll-"

Sonic grabbed the water bottle and gulped it down. Thirst was overwhelming the rest of his needs. But he still tried to meet the individual's gaze, even if the sun's glare was intent on stopping that from happening.

"Thanks," Sonic said, handing back the water bottle – he wanted more, but if he and this stranger were both stuck in this desert, they'd be wanting to save it.

The man smirked. It was the kind of smirk that Sonic had practiced to a fine art – it was important that Eggman saw a smirk every time he lost. Hero's duty and all that.

But this man…what _was _he? He'd once asked Eggman what kind of animal he was, a question that seemed to actually dishearten him. And indeed, Sonic had never seen any other being like Eggman. Was this guy of the same species? And if so, what did that mean?

"Am I hallucinating?" Sonic asked. "Or am I really in a desert?"

"I dunno," the man said. "Could be. Heck, I'm talking to a blue hedgehog, so I'm either dead or insane." He rested something over his shoulder – some kind of rifle, Sonic noticed, and an antiquated one at that. "Well, I'll see ya."

And the man began to walk down to the plane. Slowly, deliberately, surely. Fading into the dust. His words carried away on the wind.  
"Wait!" Sonic called out. "Those words earlier! Were they from you?!"

"Yep."

"Oh," the hedgehog said. He felt disappointed for some reason.

"Why did you say them?"

"I dunno, they just sounded cool."

"Oh. Right."

Cool. Sounding cool. Sighing, Sonic closed his eyes. He'd never be cool again. Not without his speed. Not when he was trapped in a desert, or in his own mind, or-

_Huh?_

And he was back on the beach again. Holding the volleyball in his hands. Staring at his friends. Friends, he noticed, who were staring back at him with expressions of bemusement on their faces.

_Was I…talking to myself?_

They kept staring. And Sonic kept staring. Even as he grabbed the volleyball and walked back to them. All with a single thought in his mind.

_Man, I gotta stop playing _Uncharted.

* * *

_A/N_

_It's a known fact that Sonic's scarf in his _Boom _incarnation was inspired by the one worn by Nathan Drake. So, with the 'desert section' in _Sole Power_, it reminded me of the trailer for _Uncharted 3_. Drabbled this up as a result._


End file.
